Project Golden Boy
by taleoftwoherondales
Summary: Jace Herondale, a seemingly normal high school Junior, is about to have his world flipped upside down when two new girls enter his school. There's something about them that he can't quite put his finger on, but is determined to find out. What happen's when Jace is sucked into their world of danger, demons, and missing parents. AU, Clace, Sizzy, Malec.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! You may know me from my most popular fic, "Scandals and Secrets", but I'm back with a whole new one. Basically it's a role reversal, with Clary being the one adopted by the Lightwoods, and the Herondale's living in the mundane world. Stephen is a lawyer, and Celine is a stay at home mom, selling her old heirlooms to help the family get by. Clary was raised in the mundane world until she was ten, when Jocelyn was taken, forcing Clary to move in with the Lightwoods. She became Isabelle's parabatai, and they're some of the best Shadowhunters of their generation. Sebastian and Jonathan are two different people, and the Herondale's left the Circle before the Uprising.**

**I really hope you guys enjoy this! Please feel free to leave feedback in the reviews, and go check out "Scandals and Secrets" ;)**

* * *

Chapter One

Clarissa Fairchild sat cross-legged in the art room of the New York Institute, trying to get his face right.

For the past three months, she had been drawing the Golden Boy. She had no idea who he was, or if he was even real, but she could not get him out of her head.

Most Shadowhunters didn't understand her love for painting, sketching, and sculpting, for they were warriors, not artists. She could never do it as an occupation, so why bother?

Sometimes, she didn't even know her self.

The door swung open, revealing a tall, brunette girl with coffee brown eyes. She regarded her Parabatai warmly.

"Hey, Izzy. What's up?" Clary sighed, not turning away from her canvas. She bit her lip. Something was not quite right.

"Clare, stop painting pornographic images of your fake boyfriend and get down to the library! We're going on a mission!" Isabelle said, beaming with jubilance.

Clary's ears perked up. A mission? They were only 16, too young to do anything but fight lesser demons for the Clave.

She tucked a long, dark red lock behind her ear, revealing the sparkle in her emerald green eyes.

"Let's go then."

The Institute Library was one of the biggest in the world, only topped by the one in London. Still, it was one of Clary's favorite places to come and distract herself from the life she led.

Mayrse Lightwood, Institute head and Isabelle's mother, sat behind her desk holding two packets of paper. She gave the two girls a warm smile before motioning for them to sit.

"Hello, ladies." Mayrse greeted them, taking her place in her high-backed chair, resembling a queen in her throne.

Clary waited for her to get to the point.

Sighing, the older, raven-haired woman pushed the two packets towards Isabelle and Clary.

"As you two may know, the Clave is supposed to identify Shadowhunter children who's parents have left the Clave and offer them a spot within our ranks. Well, we seem to have made a misstep…" Mayrse said, trailing off.

"Misstep?" Questioned Isabelle, knitting her eyebrows together. Clary began flipping through the papers, and froze. _Oh no._

"Yes, well, we did not know where Stephen and Celine Herondale, former Circle members who fled before the Uprising, were until a few days ago. They are actually here, in New York, and their son Jonathan knows nothing of the Shadow World."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, while Clary said nothing. She knew exactly where this was going.

"So why don't you and dad just go to his house and tell him the same thing you tell everyone? 'Hi! You're secretly a Shadowhunter, a member of a hidden race whose mandate is to look hot while slaying demons. You too, could be so lucky, if you left your family and lived with us for the rest of your life!" Isabelle snorted, leaning back in her chair. She took out a nail file from her pocket and began to touch up her already perfect pink talons.

"It's not that simple." Muttered Clary under her breath, earning her a confused look from Isabelle.

"Jonathan is special, to put it in the most simplified terms. His father was Valentine Morgenstern's closest friend after his Parabatai vanished, and we have reason to believe Valentine experimented on Jonathan, as he experimented on his own children."

Clary felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of her. Don't let them see you sweat, Clary, she thought to herself. They couldn't know the truth.

They couldn't know who she really was and what she could do.

"So I'm assuming that if you or Robert went, Valentine would know where the Herondale's are, and their safety amongst the Mundanes would be void." Clary said in a bored tone, though she was anything but. She needed to meet this boy, to see what he knew and what he could do. After all, he was the only one like her.

"Correct, Clarissa. That's why you and Isabelle must infiltrate his high school, befriend Jonathan, and slowly break the news to him. Get him to trust you, and then bring him to the Institute. There is a picture of him, his family, and closest confidents included in the packet."

Clary glanced down, and stifled a gasp.

It was the Golden Boy.

* * *

"Jonathan Herondale, get down here this instant!" Yelled Celine Herondale, hands on her hips as Jace tumbled down the stairs.

His golden hair was disheveled, as always, and he was sporting his signature jeans and a t-shirt look. He never tried very hard on his appearance, but the school sluts were always all over him.

He obviously never took them up on their offer, but he supposed it was flattering.

"Sorry, mom." Jace said with a sheepish smile, kissing her on the cheek. She looked slightly mollified, and turned back to making breakfast for Jace and his father.

Stephen Herondale sat at the kitchen island, reading the New York Times, muttering things about their nitwit president and the recession they were in.

Stephen always encouraged Jace to help vote 'the reds' out of office, but since he was only 17, he could not comply.

"Simon is going to be here in a few minutes, Jace. Are you sure you want to go to school with no jacket? It is snowing outside, after all." Celine said with a small smirk.

Jace looked down, sighed, and rushed back up the stairs to grab his leather jacket before his best friend arrived.

"Hello, Simon." Celine greeted him warmly. The Lewis family had been the Herondale's neighbors for years, and their sons were like brothers.

People at their school, St. Xavier's Academy, found it odd that their star quarterback was best friends with the nerdy, glasses sporting captain of the robotics team, but Jace didn't mind. He cared nothing about the opinions of his peers.

He knew he was meant for something bigger than just his high school career, he just needed to figure out what.

"C'mon Jace! We're halfway through junior year, and we're still late to school everyday because of your inability to remember pertinent things!" Simon scolded him with a trace of a smile on his face. He was the only one at school who 'dared' to talk to Jace that way. He rolled his eyes. It's not like Jace would have done anything if they did. He didn't really believe in violence.

"Shut it, Si." Jace muttered, stalking out the door.

Simon and the Herondales exchanged eye rolls before Simon followed his friend down the snowy sidewalk. This would be an eventful day; he could feel it.

* * *

"How are we even supposed to dress?" Whined Isabelle, pawing through her large, walk in closet with a furious sigh. The girl had never had a fashion crisis in her life, and was not taking to it very well.

Clary looked down at the outfit she had picked for herself. Black and white striped dress, purple tights, and grey, heeled boots. She would have loved to just thrown on her gear, but it was too conspicuous. This was the next best thing to cover up all her runes.

"Just wear a plain dress, a cardigan, and a scarf. Plus tights so your runes won't show, and the mundanes will turn a blind eye since it's the middle of winter." Clary responded, plopping down on her best friend's glitter coated comforter.

Isabelle glared at her. "Since when are you the fashion expert?" Isabelle retorted before turning back to the task at hand.

"I grew up in the mundane world." Clary muttered sadly under her breath. She thought back to a time when things were simpler; before her mother was taken away by the man she hated the most.

Isabelle reemerged from her closet, looking amazing in her long sleeved, white lace dress, paired with a purple knit scarf and black high heeled hooker boots that only she could ever pull off. She noticed Clary's gaze trained on her choice of footwear and smirked.

"Nothing less than seven inches, darling." She winked at Clary, before pulling the redhead down on a stool to get her hair and makeup done.

* * *

"Hey, Jace!" A mid height blonde called, running up to him and Simon as they stood by his locker. Jace slammed his head against the top shelf, causing his U.S. History book to fall to the floor. Simon helpfully picked it up.

"Karly." He muttered, rolling his eyes. Karly White was the notorious school slut, and the only football player she hadn't been with yet was Jace.

She was donning her cheer uniform, showing off her perky chest and long legs. All the other cheerleaders chose to wear their track jackets over it, or even just the navy blue long-sleeved shirt they all were issued, but not Karly. It seemed to be against her religion to cover up. Jace respected the woman's right to do what she pleased with her body, but it was snowing outside, for God's sake.

The blonde ran a slightly spray tanned hand up and down Jace's bicep, causing him to jump away.

"Karly, how many times do I have to tell you? It's not going to happen. I'm not like that." Jace sighed, doing his best to dodge her very desperate advances.

Not all the girls in this school acted like her, but there were enough to drive Jace insane, not in the way they probably hoped.

"Jace, you're the quarterback of the football team, and you're sex on a stick. I'm the cheer captain. We're supposed to be together." Karly purred in his ear, in an attempt to be seductive, but Jace just brushed her off. He was sick of all the desperation. This wasn't him, and it would never be him.

Sure, he flirted incisively with the female populace, but he would never screw a bunch of girls just to keep up some football stereotype.

"Listen, Karly, I'm sorry if I've ever led you on, but we are not going to happen, so please, stop throwing yourself at me. It's getting really annoying."

With a deadly glare and a flick of her straight blonde hair, Karly huffed and strutted away.

Jace turned back to Simon, who had been patiently waiting during the confrontation, but he was staring down the hallway, mouth agape.

Jace's golden eyes followed his gaze.

Two gorgeous girls were striding down the hallway, coming his way.

The taller of the two had long dark hair that fell almost to her waist and coffee brown eyes. She was classically beautiful, but she wasn't the one he was immediately drawn to.

At her side was a shorter girl with hair like blood colored silk. Her piercing green eyes were smudged seductively with eyeliner, and her striped dress hugged her slim, but still prominent curves.

She approached him, amusement in her eyes.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but you're kind of blocking my locker." She said with a small smile, not meeting his gaze.

Oh. Hope fluttered, then promptly died in his chest. He thought the girl had wanted to talk to him, but no.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Jace said sheepishly, noticing Simon was eyeing her friend with awed glances.

"It's fine." She waved away his apology and took out a slip of paper. The redhead seemed to be having problems with opening a locker. Maybe she was home schooled.

"Here, let me help you with that." He said, easily spinning the numbers on her lock. She gave him an appreciative grin.

"So, are you new here?" Jace asked in a desperate effort to keep the conversation going. What could he say? She was enthralling, and different, somehow.

"Yeah. My siblings and I were all home schooled, but we wanted the crazy high school experience we saw in the movies." Clary said with a small smirk, like something was funny to her.

"That makes sense. You chose a great school. Can I see your schedule?" Jace asked politely, hoping he had classes with the mystery girl. She handed him her list of classes for the day, and it turns out they had all of them together. Luck was certainly on his side today.

"Oh my goodness, I totally forgot to introduce myself." She said, smacking her forehead with her palm. It was oddly endearing. "I'm Clarissa Fray, and this is my sister, Isabelle." Clarissa said, motioning to the brunette chatting up Simon. He looked like he was going to pass out.

"You two don't look like sisters." Jace blurted out and instantly regretted it. Clarissa's expression didn't change, but he saw a flash in her emerald eyes.

"I'm adopted." She trailed off, still setting things up in her locker. Isabelle sauntered over, dragging an already love struck Simon with her.

"Clary! This is Simon! He's wonderful." Isabelle said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Her red lipstick matched the flush that crept up his face.

Jace and Clary both stifled a laugh.

"Well, since this is your first day, and we seem to have the same schedule, can I show you around today? I'm Jace Herondale, by the way." Jace asked, trying to hide his nervousness. He had never been so attracted to someone in his entire life, and he needed to figure out why.

Clary shrugged, glancing back at Isabelle, and then smiled up at Jace.

"I don't see why not."

* * *

As Clary and Isabelle approached the doors of St. Xavier's high school, Isabelle turned to Clary, panic in her eyes.

"What if we mess this up? I mean, they went into hiding for a reason, Clare. We could be responsible for ruining the Herondale's lives."

Clary suppressed a shudder. She knew more than anyone what it felt like to have your life ripped apart by Valentine Morgenstern, the man presumably hunting the Herondale's son.

"Just follow my lead, Iz. We need to act like typical mundane girls. Can you manage that?" Clary asked her Parabatai, challenging her. Isabelle sniffed indignantly.

"I can do anything." She responded, rolling her eyes.

Clary bit back a grin. She knew exactly how to bait her best friend into doing what she wanted.

They rolled their shoulders back, putting on an air of confidence as they strode through the hallways, the clicking of their heels alerting the students to their presence.

Jaws dropped and envious glares were thrown. Clary knew they had made an entrance.

Clary's emerald eyes darted around until she located the Golden Boy, who was standing in front of his locker, talking to a girl in a very revealing cheerleader's uniform, as a tall, lanky kid with glasses stood off to the side.

The blonde cheerleader stormed away, bumping into Clary's shoulder as she went by. She stifled a laugh. Mundanes. They just could not take rejection.

She noticed the dark haired boy's gaze on them, and Clary knew it was showtime.

She stepped up to the Golden Boy, averting her gaze like she was embarrassed. "Uh, I'm sorry, but you're kind of blocking my locker." Clary said with a sheepish smile, willing blood to rush into her cheeks.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry." Said the boy, obviously flustered. Clary pushed down her amusement. The other boy was staring at Isabelle with awe. Clary threw her a look that clearly said, "_take care of that one." _Isabelle complied, and began using her "techniques" on the mundane. It took everything Clary had in her not to burst out laughing.

"It's fine." Clary mumbled meekly, digging through her bag for the locker combination the receptionist had given her. She and Isabelle both managed to get lockers next to Golden Boy's, and the same exact schedule. Persuasion runes were Clary's favorite to use.

Her fingers falsely fumbled with the dial, pretending not to know how to even use one.

"Here, let me help you with that." Golden Boy plucked the combination paper out of her hands and opened Clary's locker for her.

She beamed up at him, hoping her acting didn't seem too fake. She knew how clueless mundanes could be, but she didn't want to over do it.

"So are you new here?" He asked, clearly trying to keep up the conversation. Clary bit her lip. He was sweet. She almost felt bad about coning him.

"Yeah. My siblings and I were all home schooled, but we wanted the crazy high school experience we saw in the movies." Clary said with a small smirk, amused by how easy her lie rolled of her tongue. It was a good thing Isabelle let her take the lead on this. Izzy would have been tripping over her sentences.

"That makes sense. You chose a great school. Can I see your schedule?" Jace asked politely. Clary handed him her paper, and his golden eyes skimmed over it, lighting up in the fact that they shared all their classes. She already had him baited; all she need was the hook.

"Oh my goodness, I totally forgot to introduce myself." She said, smacking her forehead like a ditz. "I'm Clarissa Fray, and this is my sister, Isabelle." They had decided not to use their real Shadowhunter last names in case Jace decided to tell his parents about them. So they took on the personas 'Clary Fray' and 'Isabelle Woods'.

"You two don't look like sisters." Jace observed, almost causing to roll her eyes. Instead, she looked away, eyes flashing with pain.

"I'm adopted." She muttered, turning back to placing the hastily bought school supplies in her locker. It was true, Clary was adopted by the Lightwoods when she was ten years old, but they were her true family.

Isabelle chose that moment to insert herself into the conversation, which Clary was grateful for.

"Clary! This is Simon! He's wonderful." Isabelle said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Her red lipstick matched the flush that crept up his face.

Jace and Clary both stifled a laugh.

Clary loved that she was trying so hard, but she knew that given the chance, Isabelle would walk all over Simon's delicate, mundane heart in high-heeled boots.

"Well, since this is your first day, and we seem to have the same schedule, can I show you around today?" Jace asked, discreetly wiping his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans. Clary gave him another winning smile.

"I don't see why not."

Hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

**How do you guys like manipulative, sassy Clary? I know she's different than she is in the books, but it makes sense since she doesn't have the same life experiences. She grew up knowing she was a Fairchild and a Shadowhunter, but her and Jocelyn were still in hiding. Also, should the girls join the cheer team for fun or is that too predictable? Let me know in the reviews! **

**xoxo, A**


	2. Chapter 2

**Uhg, guys. I had my first track meet of the season today and I ran the 4x800 relay, the 1600m, and the 3200m (half mile relay, mile, and two mile). I sort of want to die, sort of want to cry. I'm exhausted and eating chicken nuggets, and avoiding homework. So, here's another chapter of Project Golden Boy! Also, it's pretty chiche if Isabelle and Clary join the cheer team so I'll put them on track or something since I'm familiar with it all. Shadowhunters run fast anyways. Goals. Thank you for all the support! Please go check out my most popular fic, "Scandals and Secrets" since it's just passed 100 reviews, and it's like five chapters from being complete! Disclaimer, I don't own the mortal instruments or Jace Herondale, unfortunatly. *cries***

**enjoy! **

* * *

Chapter Two

"What's on your mind, Jace?" Asked Celine at dinner later that evening with a concerned expression on her face.

His father briefly looked up before going back to his papers. His shirtsleeves had ridden up, revealing the ends of winding black… tattoos? Jace squinted, and then they were gone.

"There's just these two new girls at my school and Simon and I started hanging out with them. That's it." Jace said with a smile. That wasn't it. He couldn't get Clary out of his mind. The way they accidentally brushed hands every period, or the fact that her smile was the greatest he'd ever seen.

Jace didn't know, but he was smitten after just one day of knowing her.

Stephen stood up from the table, taking a call, probably from the office. Celine leaned in closer to Jace, a conspiratorial look on her face.

"Which one do you like, son?" She whispered, a knowing smirk on her face.

Jace felt the heat travel up his face. Leave it to his mother to see right through his act.

"Her name is Clary Fray, and she's the most beautiful girl I've ever met." Jace admitted. His mother's eyebrows knit together, but her peculiar expression quickly dissipated.

"Well, I would love to meet her. How about you bring her to dinner on Saturday?" Celine suggested, eyes filled with excitement.

"Don't you think it's a little too soon, mom?"

"No. I would love to meet the girl that's captured my son's heart."

* * *

Each time her knives hit the center of the target; Clary imagined it was the heart of those that who had wronged her.

_Hit._ For the experiments done to her before she was born.

_Hit._ For her mother being taken away from her.

_Hit. _For the demon living inside her older brother.

_Hit._ For the bartender that cut her off last weekend at Pandemonium.

"Someone's angry tonight." Mused a voice behind her. Clary whirled around, coming face to face with Alec Lightwood. His blue eyes were shining with pride at Clary's ability to hit the center each time.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to endure a day of mundane school with Isabelle." Clary retorted, turning back to her training. Knives were her weak point, and she couldn't afford to have a crappy throwing arm.

"What about the glorious Isabelle Lightwood?" Clary's Parabatai sang, prancing into the room. Clary rolled her eyes, but still had traces of a small smile on her lips.

"Don't you mean Isabelle _Woods_?" Alec snorted, polish the hilt of his Seraph blades.

"Don't make me run you through with one of those sparkling blades, brother of mine." Isabelle said sweetly, batting her mascara-d eyelashes.

"Then who would save your asses on our demon hunts?" Alec growled, crossing his arms. The eldest Lightwood always took things so seriously.

"Ourselves! Duh." Isabelle flipped her long locks, and grabbed Clary's arm. "C'mon, Clarebear. We have Calculus homework to do." Clary groaned.

She hated high school.

* * *

Thursday morning, three days after the first day she had stepped foot in a mundane school since she was ten, Clary felt the air shift next to her.

"Hey, Shortcake." Jace said, leaning against the locker next to hers. Clary smiled unwillingly, something she had been doing a lot of lately.

"What's up, Goldilocks?" Clary smirked, knowing the nickname bugged him. Jace rolled his eyes.

"Can I walk you to class?" Jace asked, confusing Clary. Hadn't he done that everyday this week? Clary brushed away her confusion. She obviously didn't understand high school friendships.

"Of course." Clary beamed. It was nice being around Jace. Even though they lived in separate worlds, he gave her a sense of normalcy. They were both Shadowhunters who grew up thinking they were mundanes.

"I know we're all hanging out tomorrow night, but I was wondering if you want to come over on Saturday for dinner? We could watch movies, or whatever, afterwards." Jace sounded so nervous and it just about broke Clary's heart.

"Of course. That sounds really fun." Clary replied, standing on her tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before sauntering to the back of the classroom where she sat with Isabelle during their Calculus class.

She could still feel his golden gaze on her back.

"You like him." Isabelle whisper-accused as Clary sat down next to her, pulling out her black binder and a pencil.

"Yeah, he's a nice person." Clary deadpanned, letting her scarlet curls fall over her face, obscuring Isabelle's view of her blush.

"Shut up, Clary. I can see your cheeks under that fiery little curtain." Isabelle pointed out. Clary silently cursed.

"You put blush on me this morning and went a little overboard. I'll look permantly embarrassed all day." Clary accused, crossing her legs as Isabelle scowled at her.

"Whatever, Clare. Just remember what we came here to do. He can have feelings for you, but you can't reciprocate."

"Trust me, Izzy. I don't."

* * *

"Are you saying that you two have never been bowling?" Exclaimed Simon, mouth agape with shock. Clary bit back a little smile. If only he knew.

Isabelle shook her head solemnly as Jace and Simon exchanged looks.

"You're up, Shortcake." Jace whispered in Clary's ear, causing her to shiver slightly. What was it with this Golden Boy, forcing _feelings_ out of her? She didn't have feelings. She was pragmatic, detached, and did what she needed to do. If seducing Jace Herondale is what she needed to do, then so be.

She gave Jace a little wink before pinking up a pink bowling ball and facing the center of her lane.

The ball tumbled out of her hands, speeding perfectly straight against the polished floors, knocking down all ten pins in its path.

Simon let out a little whistled, and Isabelle looked slightly perplexed.

"Damn, Strawberry. I thought you said you've never done this before." Jace said with a smirk. Damn that Golden Boy and his stupid smirk. Damn him to hell.

Clary shrugged her shoulders, managing to look aloof and confused. "Natural talent, I suppose." She smiled, not wanting him, or anyone else for that matter, that bowling at this very alley had been a Sunday night tradition with her and her mother.

_Her mother._ A pang shot through Clary's chest. It had been six, going on seven, years since Clary had seen Jocelyn. She used to swear up and down she would find her, avenge her, but she knew in her heart Jocelyn was nowhere to be found.

Valentine had his ways, and she would kill him one day. Once the bastard came out of hiding.

Pushing the dark thoughts out of her mind, Clary untangled herself from the arm Jace had wrapped around her shoulders and strode over to Isabelle, where Simon was making several attempts to hold her hand.

Clary pitied the poor mundane. It's not that he was unattractive, since his nerdy 'angle' worked to his advantage. In some ways, Clary knew exactly how he felt.

They both had shining supernovas of a best friend, ones that expanded, sucking all the matter out of the space around them, causing them to shine even brighter.

Isabelle, with her seductress looks and charming personality, made Clary feel like a dull, faded white dwarf.

Casually sipping her soda, Clary glanced around the alley. Her gaze landed on Jace, who was ordering food for their little group.

She knew whatever act she was pulling was working on him, but she couldn't figure out why. She was nothing special. Isabelle was the one to lure in the men; Clary was the one to disembowel a demon in one stroke of her Seraph blade.

He was tall, beautiful, and talented in ways he didn't even know yet, and yet, he seemed to be drawn to her, when all Clary did was try to make friends with him.

She mulled over her thoughts as Jace returned, empty-handed.

"Well, apparently their kitchens close at 8, and it's now 8:01. The night's still young. Should we go somewhere else?" Jace asked, meeting Clary's eyes. She didn't know how to respond, but was saved by Isabelle, who squealed, clapping her hands with glee.

"Let's go to Pandemonium!" She announced, sitting up to brush the non-existent lint from her red miniskirt. Clary shot her a warning look, which she chose to ignore.

They both knew that they only went to Pandemonium for one reason, and that was to kill demons. Not entertain a mundane and a practically mundane Shadowhunter who knew nothing of the world he was born into.

"That's the freaky all ages club, right?" Questioned Jace, slurping his drink, chest muscles twitching against his tight, black t-shirt. Clary averted her eyes, heeding Isabelle's warning.

Isabelle leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes. "It's not freaky! Clare and I go there all the time." She threw a wink at Clary. Yes, they certainly did go there all the time, but not for the reason a mundane would think.

Jace looked Clary up and down, noting that she didn't seem like the type.

From her green silk tank top, navy blue skirt, stripped cardigan, and tangle of necklaces (runed necklaces, that is), to her soft red curls, she certainly didn't fit the stereotype in her mundane persona. Put her in gear and 'tattoos' and she blended in nicely with the crowd.

"So, are we going or what?" Smirked Clary, glancing around the table. A mumble of affirmations was all she needed. Standing up, she extended her hand to Jace, who carefully took it, eyeing her a little.

His gaze was so intense, Clary began to squirm beneath it, a habit she did not care to pick up. This boy was going to be the death of her.

* * *

Stepping into Pandemonium for the first time, Jace felt a little off.

He had been unusually drawn to this place for years, but never felt the reason to go in.

There was something strange about this place, however. He remembered walking in with Clary, trailed by Simon and Isabelle, who were now holding hands.

"Hey, Cherry. What does that symbol behind the letters mean?" Jace asked, pointing up to the strange, winged diamond shape. Clary froze, but then gave him an easy smile and clueless shrug. She knew more than she was letting on. He must've been hallucinating, but Jace could have sworn he saw the same symbols, amongst others, on the barely exposed skin of Isabelle and Clary.

He received some strange looks afterwards, but thought nothing of it.

Grabbing Clary's hand, he pulled her out on to the dance floor. She was unspurisingly good, fluid in her movements. She wore a real, not forced smile for one of the first times since he had met her.

He had never seen Clary so carefree.

In the heat of the moment, he grabbed Clary's hips, and pulled her closer to him, just close enough to kiss.

He was shocked when she did, but complied by allowing her entrance. He could have sworn the club had gone up in flames.

There was a sharp cough behind them, and Clary broke away, an apology in her eyes.

Isabelle was standing a few feet away, arms crossed across her chest, with a disgruntled looking Simon behind her.

"Clare, would you mind joining for some girl time?" Isabelle said evenly, but Clary's face grew pale. He could almost hear their silent conversation.

_Really, Isabelle? Here? Now? But we have the mundane with us!_

_Clary, stop being such a worry wort. We have things to take of, now._

_Fine, but if Golden Boy sees us, were dead._

Isabelle rolled her eyes, dragging Clary away, shoving her in a storeroom.

There was definitely something up, and Jace intended to find out.

* * *

"What's your name?" Alec Lightwood asked the blue-haired girl, eyes gleaming. Anyone who didn't know him would have assumed this was a common occurrence for him. Picking up pretty girls and defiling them in the storage room of a club.

"I think it's better if you didn't know that." The girl winked back, placing her hands on his chest. Alec didn't even flinch,

Isabelle and Clary stifled a laugh. They should let Alec take lead more often.

The girl began to remove Alec's shirt from his shoulders, but she froze.

"_Nephilim!_" She hissed through her now pointed teeth. Being caught off guard did not help Eidolon demons keep their forms.

Before she could attack, Isabelle and Clary sprung into action, wielding whips and Seraph blades, tying the demon down.

"Please! Don't kill me! I could give you information." It pleaded. Clary rolled her eyes, stepping forwards. She allowed her blade to shine under the danky florescent lights.

"Oh, you demons. Always trying to talk out of situations. What could you possible offer us? We're Shadowhunters." Clary laughed haughtily, unaware the storage room door had cracked open.

"Valentine was in the city. He's back. We all know it, all the demons and Downworlders. It's the Nephilim who are clueless." It snickered, anti-freeze colored eyes trained on Clary. She froze.

"That's right, Clarissa Morgenstern. Your daddy is back to finish what he stared all those years ago." Clary couldn't breathe.

"Isabelle, finish this creature." Alec said, bored with the situation. His sister stepped forwards, yielding her favorite Seraph blade.

"Wait!" A deep, panicked voice called. They all turned towards the door, where none other than Golden Boy was standing, hands tangled in his hair.

"You can't kill her!"

* * *

**Dun dun dun dunnnnn. Oh, Jace. Can't you see the ladies (and Alec) have work to do? Thanks for reading! Next chapter when I get ten more reviews or like, get so bored I can't function.**

**xoxo, A**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello beautiful people! So it's another lovely spring day in the western US and instead of going outside and running like I should, I'm updating my fanfics. Isn't that just peachy? In other news, I made the legendary Buffrito from John Green's "Looking For Alaska" today and I cried a little. I also woke up at noon and my brother was playing Jack Johnson's "Banana Pancakes", so I made those too. How I'm not 1000 pounds absolutely beats me. Anyways, here's another chapter of "Project Golden Boy" which will provide some more backstory, although not at all complete, and a shocking twist of events. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI, or Jace Herondale (sobs violently)**

* * *

Chapter Three

_Oh Shit._

The words resounded in Clary's mind as she saw Jace in the doorway, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, staring at the situation unfolding before him.

She threw a quick glance to the Lightwood siblings, urging them to take care of the demon, who was still sputtering crap about Valentine and the pits of hell, while Clary salvaged the Project.

She grabbed Jace's wrist and yanked him into a different storage room, away from the demon-slaughtering occurring in the next one over.

Closing the door, she examined the Golden Boy's expression. He obviously possessed the Sight, from the shell-shocked expression he donned on his face.

"You know what you really saw, Jace, so don't even try to claim the _thing_ tied up was a human." Clary stated, narrowing her eyes. Ichor was crusting on the edges of her cardigan's sleeve, up she ignored it. Worse things have happened.

"What did she mean about your father?" Jace asked, words tumbling out of his mouth.

Of all the things the pretty little boy could have asked, he chose that? Clary let out a mixture between a groan and a chuckle. Mundanes.

Although, he wasn't a mundane, wasn't he? He was purebred Nephilim, from a long line of respectable Shadowhunters, just like Clary. Not counting her father, of course.

"Just go home Jace, and for your own sanity, don't tell Stephen and Celine what happened here tonight." Clary sighed, placing her face in her palms.

What she didn't know was that Jace's golden eyes were trained directly on her right hand, where the Sight rune was fully on display.

* * *

It was like the murky curtain covering the world was lifted from Jace Herondale's eyes.

He could now clearly remember the girl's eyes, unnaturally bright, like anti-freeze. He could see the black marking traced upon Clary's skin.

And he could definitely see the tormented look etched upon the pretty redhead's face.

Something else hit him.

"How do you know my parent's names?" Jace asked, narrowing his eyes at Clary.

"Let it go, Herondale. Please, just let it go. Forget what you saw tonight, and go home." Clary whispered, before stalking back into the club.

How had his date with a seemingly perfect girl take such an insane turn? What the hell had just happened?

He didn't know much, but if he knew one thing, it was that he was certainly not going to let tonight go.

* * *

"By the Angel, Clary! For someone who can create new runes out of thin air, you couldn't think up a simple memory swiping one?" Screeched Isabelle, frantically running her fingers through her raven hair.

Simon and Jace had both disappeared, and their cover was blown with the latter. This is what Mayrse Lightwood would call "a disaster of Raziel proportions."

In other words, they were royally screwed.

"What are the chances the kid will just forget about it?" Alec asked as they were riding the subway back to the Institute. Yes, feared demon-hunters rode subways too.

Clary snorted. Knowing the Golden Boy, he'd be too stubborn to heed Clary's warning. It would be much simpler for him if he did, but when was any situation in Clary's life ever simple?

"He's even more stubborn than Isabelle, Alec. We're really in for it this time." They all murmured their choice of curse words, praying Mayrse would find a way to salvage their project before it was too late.

* * *

As it turns out, Mayrse did have a few opinions on the matter, and no, none of them were very savory towards the teenagers.

"I entrust you two with one simple task- to befriend Jonathan Herondale and het him to trust you, and you ruin it within a week?" She shouted in a very Isabelle like fashion. Like mother, like daughter. Clary scuffed her brown boots against the hard mosaic floor of the library, eyes cast downwards as her adoptive mother scolded them. She felt guilty, but not because she failed the Clave.

She could honestly care less about their big plans for Jace. She just wondered if he was okay.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized the similarities between her and Jace. They were both experiments, and both grew up in the mundane world.

A realization dawned upon Clary, and she suddenly knew what she needed to do to right this, and maybe gain insight into the mind of Valentine Morgenstern, a topic Mayrse would never talk indulge her in.

She needed to talk to Celine and Stephen Herondale.

* * *

With images whirling around in his mind, Jace almost ran face first into his apartment's front door.

He kicked aside the welcome mat to retrieve the hidden key underneath it. His parent's were so cliché. It was like everything they did came out of a movie.

He barely noticed a few of the living room lights were on, and a figure was perched on one of the armchairs. His thoughts were too disturbing.

"Jace, it's nearly midnight. Why are you home so late?" His mother scolded him, breaking Jace out of his reverie. Her blonde hair was tied up, and she had been reading a book, obviously worried for her only son's safety.

It took everything Jace had not to break down and cry.

Instead, he slumped down on the floor beside his mother's chair and allowed her to stroke his hair like she did when he was little. When he looked up, he froze.

There were black marking, just like Clary's, on her right hand and arms. The one shaped like an eye seemed to bore into his soul.

Jace jumped back, flinching away from his mother's touch. He must've been going insane.

Celine glanced down at her arms, noticing her marks, and sighed.

"I'm surprised it took this long for it to wear off." She said simply, offering no other explanation.

"What are you talking about?" Jace questioned, wondering why nothing in his once simple life made sense anymore.

"I was always against it, but your father insisted you couldn't know the truth. It would only make it easier for _him_ to find you." Celine continued to ramble, despite her son's state of perplexity.

"By the Angel. I should probably start at the beginning." Celine stated, using that strange expression she and Stephen sometime's slipped into conversation. He could have sworn he heard Clary and Isabelle use it once or twice, also.

Not waiting for Jace's response, Celine launched into her tale.

* * *

"_We were young, Jace, and impressionable. I was only 16 when I was recruited, when most others were 18 and nearly done with their schooling. The country where your father and I grew up, Idris, is a beautiful place. You would have loved it. It's in a small nook between Germany and France. Most mundanes believe nothing is there, besides Switzerland, but it's there, with its rolling hills and glistening sunsets. I moved there when I was 15 from Paris to study at the Shadowhunter Academy. I'm a Shadowhunter, as is your father, as are you. We're descended from the Angels, baby, and it's our mandate to protect the mundanes. A mandate your father and I have broken for the past 17 years. Anyways, I chose to move to Idris because of my father. He was an alcoholic, and very abusive, so I ran. I was naïve when I met a man named Valentine Morgenstern. He was charismatic, and kind. Everything I wanted in a new friend, so when he offered me a place in his little clique called "The Circle", how could I refuse? I met your father there, along with many others that I came to call my friends. Unfortunately for me, Stephen was already married to a lovely woman named Amatis Graymark, the sister of Valentine's best friend. I hid away my feelings for Stephen, until one day, Lucian and Amatis were thrown out of the Circle. I didn't question it when Stephen was ordered by Valentine to wed me. I embraced it, because it would make him happy. All we ever wanted to do was make him happy. All except Valentine's own wife, Jocelyn Fairchild. She was beautiful, with long scarlet hair and piercing green eyes that always shone with defiance. We became close friends, Jocelyn and I, once I was pregnant, and she had an infant son. We flitted around the Shadowhunter politics our husbands were so caught up in, and only once voiced how truly unhappy she was. How she was scared of Valentine, and how she missed Lucian Graymark. I was only 17, confused on how anyone could find Valentine scary. Yes, he spoke of inane ideals, of overthrowing the Clave and wiping out Downworlders, but I was happy with Stephen, and we had a baby on the way. Valentine gave me supplements during pregnancy, which I gratefully took, despite the objections in Jocelyn's eyes. I know now why she could not voice her discontent, why she could not warn me. Valentine was always watching. The Circle was ready to attempt to overthrow the Clave, and Stephen and I were already questioning our loyalty. Downworlders are people just as much as Shadowhunters, so why must they all die? Valentine was plotting to slaughter them all, right in the capital of Idris. Jocelyn came to us, explaining what Valentine did to her first-born, and how she needed to leave before he did the same to her second child. She and Lucian Graymark plotting against Valentine, arming the Clave and the Downworld, giving them a fair chance against the ruthless Circle. It worked, but many of our friends were killed. We were gone by that point, but we heard the gossip spread like wildfire. Valentine had manipulated them all into fighting for him, while he was busy murdering his family instead. We moved to New York, pledging never to have anything to do with the Shadowhunters ever again. We would raise you as a mundane, a normal boy, with no speak of Vampires, Faeries, Werewolves, Warlocks, or Demons ever again. Until now, I see."_

Celine regained her breath, shaking her a head a little as she remembered the past. It had been nearly 18 years, and the regret was still fresh in her heart.

Jace, on the other hand, had no idea what his mother was saying. Shadowhunters? Idris? Uprisings? Accords? The words were all foreign to him, but a few sentences stuck in his mind.

"Do you have a picture of Jocelyn?" Jace asked, speaking for the first time in what seemed like hours. Celine gave him a funny look, but complied, pulling out a wooden box from a locked cupboard, engraved with herons in flight. She dug through, until extracting an old photograph, handing it to her son.

There must have been two dozen people, teenagers, lined up with their arms around each other, smiling like they didn't have a care in the world.

There was a man in the center, with white blonde hair and pitless black eyes, who was so clearly the leader. He had his nose upturned, and his arms around a beautiful woman. Jace inhaled a sharp breath.

"Clary." He exhaled, not believing it. The woman, who his mother described as Jocelyn Morgenstern, Valentine's wife, was Clary's spitting image. To their left, he saw a woman that resembled Isabelle, as well.

It was all too much for Jace, and he nearly passed out. He still understood nothing, but he knew one thing- it was no coincidence he and Clary met.

There was a knock on the door, and Celine rose to answer it, leaving her son to his thoughts.

"Jocelyn?" Celine nearly screamed, hand over her heart, golden eyes squinting. Jace sprang upwards, forgetting his attempts to piece together the holes in his mother's story. His answers were here.

"No, I'm sorry. Jocelyn died a long time ago. I'm her daughter, Clarissa, and I'm afraid your cover is blown. You and your family need to come back to the Institute with me." A familiar voice rang through the apartment. She had changed her modest, girly outfit from earlier, and was now wearing some badass looking leather.

She never looked better, in Jace's eyes. Although, she was wearing a fierce scowl once Jace entered the foyer.

"Well, Golden Boy, it looks like you're coming with me."

* * *

After Celine had gone off to fetch Stephen and her suitcases, Clary and Jace sat awkwardly on either side of the Herondale's couch, neither quite looking at each other. Isabelle thoughoughly rejected to Clary's plan, but she gained Mayrse's stamp of approval, allowing her to go forwards.

She had no idea what would happen once the Herondale's came to live at the Institute, but she knew that Project Golden Boy was far from being over.

"So, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you and Isabelle applying to my school was not a coincidence." Jace asked, attempting to sound nonchalant, though Clary could discern notes of betrayal and confusion in his voice.

She ran a hand through her hair, wondering what she could and could not say. It was hard not having Mayrse around all the time to call the shots.

"No. I don't suppose it was." She replied evenly, matching his tone.

Jace waited for a more satisfactory answer before realizing it would never come.

"I see. So, you've been lying to me this whole time, have you?"

Clary stopped breathing momentarily. Was she lying? Or did she truly have feelings for this Golden Boy? She allowed herself one glance over at him; only to find those aureate orbs glaring back at her. She gulped.

"I'm a Shadowhunter. My only alliance is to the Clave, and they enlisted Isabelle and I to find out what you knew about the Shadow World, which, incidentally, is nothing. I also gladly took the job because I thought your family might know something about what happened to my mother…" Clary trailed off, inwardly cursing herself for revealing such pertinent information. Jace opened his mouth to respond, but Stephen and Celine had reentered the room. She noted the similarities between Jace and his father.

Stephen was scowling at Clary, who looked right back. His light blue eyes looked menacing, but Clary wasn't afraid. What could he do to her anyways?

She stood up, making the first in a long line of mistakes.

"By the Angel. You invade my household for just a few minutes and you're already acting like you own the place. I shouldn't have expected any better for a child of Valentine's." He spat at her with so much venom, Clary unconsciously shrunk backwards, hitting the wall.

She straightened up, not wanting the man to see her sweat. "Valentine is not my father." Clary muttered, wishing her voice would've come out more commanding. Unfortunately, she did not do well under stressful situations. Stephen scoffed at her, earning him a fierce glare from his wife.

"You cannot denounce your bloodline, Morgenstern. You may have the blood of Angels running through your veins, but you're just as much of a devil as your brother, and the one who sired him."

Clary's heart stopped beating, and the memories flooded her mind until there was nothing but blackness.

* * *

**What do you think will happen next? Review, and you'll find out sooner than later! **

**xoxo, A :) **

**P.S., check out Scandals and Secrets, my still most popular fic, and read up since it's next on the chopping block to be updated, and ALMOST COMPLETE!**

**I can't believe I'm actually going to finish a fanfic for once.**


	4. Chapter 4

**WHAT? TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY? Yes, my loyal followers, it is true. I am updating at 10:12 PM my time, aka I don't want to do homework or go to school tomorrow so I'm staying up and writing Fanfic. I'm really upset because the majority of my friends are on a band trip to Ireland right now, so I'm going to be alone in the majority of my classes tomorrow. I didn't go because A.) do you know how much food I can buy with 2,500 dollars? b.) they flew out on friday the 13th, and I'm super superticious, and c.) I play in the Philharmonic Orchestra at my school at their festival was the same day as the flight.**

**Excuses, excuses.**

**Anyways, I didn't end up updating Scandals and secrets, because I truthfully have no idea how to end it, or what I even want to be end game. You'd understand if you read the stories. The turmoil I feel inside about it is reflected in everyone's reviews. Does she stay with the asshole, or do I write a new OC? Uhg. The struggle. Please go read it and give me feedback!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TMI or the Herondales (sobs)**

* * *

Chapter Four

"_Mommy? Mommy? What's happening?" A small, 11 year old Clarissa Fairchild's voice rang out into their modest brownstone apartment. Clary was visibly frightened, afraid to even move. Her mother, Jocelyn was laying on the floor, clutching a now empty vile in her hands._

"_Run, Clary, baby. Draw the Rune you showed me, Portal yourself to the Institute. The New York Institute. They'll take care of you there. Don't tell them who you are." Her mother's once crystal clear voice was raspy as she shifted in and out of consciousness. _

"_No, mommy. I can't leave you here!" She shrieked, moving to tug her Stele out of her pocket and drag her along with her. _

_Suddenly, the front door flew open, and three men stepped through. The first two were ugly, broad-shouldered and wildly bearded. They wore their Runes like battle scars and their faces were contorted with a mixture of pride and disgust. _

_The third man stepped through last. He was tall, most likely over six feet, with white blonde hair and devilish black eyes. He may have been the scariest person Clary had ever seen. _

_The trio was flanked by two snarling demons, ones Clary had only heard about in her mother's old textbooks. She hadn't wanted Clary to ever see them in person, but knew it was necessary should anything ever happen to Jocelyn. Something like this._

_Clary shrunk back into her mother, cowering in the sight of the monstrosity before her. The two burly men smirked at her, whereas the tall one barely paid attention to anything but her mother._

_Clary clutched the Stele tighter, ready to pull her and her barely conscious mother through the almost finished Portal rune at any moment. _

_Jocelyn spat at the tall man's shiny leather boots, growling out the name, "Valentine." The man, presumably Valentine, gave her a toxic smile before bending down to her level._

"_Ah, hello, my fair, sweet Jocie. I see you've taken a little potion, so our time together is ticking away. Perhaps ten minutes until you slip into the coma? Fear not, I'll make it worth your time." He glared up at his two lackeys, who proceeded to leave the room, dragging their demons with them, as Valentine began to unbutton his pants. Jocelyn's eyes widened with horror._

_Clary watched, bile rising in her throat, as the man began to undress himself and her mother, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments. _

_Jocelyn was too weak to fight back, having already beginning to feel the effects of the potion. _

_He began to do unspeakable things to her, chatting to her at the same time, but covering her mouth with his large hand._

"_Well, I suppose I should inform you of your child, Jonathan. He's remarkable, but untamed. You did warn me, but I did not listen. He is truly a demon, but he's daddy's little murderer. Aren't you proud, Jocie? He killed his first at the age of five. I was hoping Stephen Herondale would have given up his location by now, but alas, the Angel Boy is currently beyond my reach. Never fear, love, he will be ours soon." Valentine was so smug, so sure of himself, it made Clary want to scream. Her mother just glared at him, not saying a word, but still vocalizing her defiance to his acts. _

_Her mother's emerald eyes met Clary's matching ones, silently relaying one message: Run. Run and never turn back. Recognizing her mother's last wish, Clary began to finish the Portal Rune. It came alive beneath her hands, glowing a tumultuous violet. _

_Valentine looked up, shock in his eyes._

"_I love you, mommy." Clary sobbed, before allowing herself to be sucked into the whirling winds of the Portal. _

_She could have sworn she heard laughter afterwards, stabbing at the depths of her soul._

* * *

Jace sat on a stool next to Clary's infirmary bed. It was Saturday morning, less than twelve hours since Clary had fainted on his living room floor.

His father had been momentarily shocked, before calling Clary all sorts of names all over again. Jace, finally having enough, told him off, earning him a small smile from Celine.

He should have been furious, floored at the thought that he was just a mission, a stupid little project to Clary, but Jace didn't care.

His father had once told him that Herondale men fall in love once, and they fall hard, which he had found strange, since Stephen wasn't very kind around his mother. They were always fighting, and rarely slept in the same bedroom. He had always assumed it was because of work, but Jace knew better now.

There had been another, one before his mother. Amatis Graymark was the one Stephen would always love.

The one that Valentine took away from him.

Though it was his word's that instigated their divorce, it wasn't Valentine who signed the papers, or who defaced the sacred marriage runes, as Jace had learned about from Mayrse Lightwood over the hours of the night.

It was all on Stephen's conscience, something that did not sit well with the prideful man.

Clary shifted in her sleep, drawing Jace back to reality, and he noticed tears streaming down her cheeks.

"_Mommy, I love you."_ She muttered, before bolting straight up. Her eyes were wild, still spilling over the edges with a waterfall of tears. She noted Jace's hand on her thigh, and clung on to it for dear life, it seemed.

From the short while Jace had known this girl, he knew she was a master manipulator, but Clary was not playing games right now. She was truly distraught, truly hyperventilating as her panic attack ran it's course.

Jace, acting on a whim, pulled Clary into his arms, muttering reassurances and stroking her hair, even if he had no clue what was going on. It seemed like a common occurrence these days, to keep Jace out of the loop.

He still didn't know much about Shadowhunters, or the world they inhabited. Only that he was one, and his mandate was to cleanse the world of demonic forces.

It sounded like something out of a bad video game.

Minutes passed until Clary finally calmed herself down and took a few normal breaths again.

"Thank you, Jace." She muttered, shifting out of his embrace. He inwardly sighed, feeling his walls come back up, until Clary quickly planted a kiss on his cheek before rushing out of the room, mumbling something about how she hoped Izzy hadn't made scrambled eggs again.

Jace stared after her, mind in a mush as he tried to process what just happened.

Clary Fray, -or should he say Fairchild? Morgenstern? Had kissed him. Granted, it was on the cheek, but he had to start somewhere, right?

She was a broken girl, and he intended on fixing her.

* * *

Isabelle Lightwood sighed as she handed off, once again, the cooking duties to her much more experienced mother, to the joy of all the other inhabitants. Isabelle was an awful cook, and she knew it, but she wished her mother had let her learn. Sexism was, thankfully, dying in the Shadowhunter community, and cooking was a valuable skill she needed, but nobody would ever let her near a kitchen. It was hugely ironic.

Her brother, Alec, sat next to her on a stool near the kitchen island, waiting for Clary to wake up. There was nothing seriously wrong with her, but Mayrse said she just needed her rest. Isabelle knew what was happening. Her past was catching up with her.

She should have been there for her Parabatai, but Clary was so stubborn, never accepting help from anyone or anything.

Maybe the girl just needed to get laid, which would never happened, since Clary shunned all male company, besides Alec of course.

And now, Jace Herondale. The stupid, practically mundane boy was ripped down the cool, detached demeanor Clary had built up over the last six years. Isabelle didn't know whether to be grateful, or wary. Anyone who had that much power over Clary was to be blacklisted, but her best friend seemed to enjoy his company as more than just her Project Golden Boy.

Without warning, Stephen and Celine Herondale entered the kitchen, bringing a riptide of family drama in their wake.

Isabelle sighed, burying her face in her folded arms. She barely got any sleep last night thanks to their guest's constant bickering.

Clary's name popped up more than once, along with Valentine Morgenstern, a man who had been dead since before Isabelle was born.

She had heard the stories, of course. Who hadn't? The ruthless, yet charming leader of Raziel's Circle, known for attempting to eradicate Downworlders and the Accords. His wife, along with many of his followers, had fled before the Uprising, not including Isabelle's own parents. The mistakes of their generation seemed to haunt the current one wherever they went.

Clary became despondent and rigid every time the name "Morgenstern" was brought up, and she had told Isabelle it was because Valentine killed her mother.

Isabelle didn't doubt that, but she knew there was much more to the story.

Mayrse knew, but never shared any of the information enclosed in the letter that Clary had clutched in her hands the night she had mysteriously shown up at the Institute all those years ago.

Maybe someday her own Parabatai would trust her enough to tell her the entire story.

Until then, the guessing game would have to be good enough.

* * *

Pacing. That's all Clary could get her body to do.

Her legs knew where she needed to be, and automatically took her to her 'safe place', the training room.

Clary knew she should be strapping on gear and launching herself from the vaulted ceilings, but she was just too damn exhausted. The only exercise she could even manage was pacing back and forth, occasionally hopping up on the windowsill before continuing her relentless walking.

The nightmare she had this morning was something Clary hadn't experienced since the event itself, six years ago. It had been so vivid, so real, it was enough to send her into a full-fledged panic attack.

Who knows how long she would have sat there, hyperventilating, if Jace had not been there. She most likely would have just passed out again.

By the Angel, Jace Herondale was something else. She had learned from her brief time in the mundane high school system that he was a good student, a great athlete, and a notorious player. He flirted with everything that walked, but never fell in love.

If the way Jace looked at Clary wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

Of course, Clary wasn't naïve to think that they had a chance under the sun of ever working out, but she wasn't stupid, and therefore, she had to acknowledge it.

She would also be lying if she said she didn't reciprocate those feelings, but said feelings needed to be mashed down and murdered brutally.

Once he knew her secret, who she really was and what she was capable of, he would never want her. No one could ever want her.

She was broken, dysfunctional, like a wind-up toy that did nothing but march onwards like it was programmed. To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed.

She'd be damned if she'd let the Golden Boy ruin her.

* * *

Mayrse shook her straight, dark hair out of its bun, allowing it to fall freely around her face. Her scalp ached, but she felt young again, even if only momentarily.

The news had spread like a wildfire. Valentine Morgenstern, the Clave's biggest failure, was alive, and in New York City.

Of course, Mayrse already knew he was alive from Clary's tearful accounts of what happened the night before her twelfth birthday in her mother's apartment. Everyone and their mother knew not to mess with Clary on August 11th, but only Mayrse knew why.

She eyed the letter from Jocelyn wearily, where it sat untouched since she first received it on that fateful night. It was like the woman knew exactly what was coming for her, and did nothing to stop it. She would never understand Jocelyn Fairchild, and hoped she never would.

Mayrse could see her adoptive daughter struggling with everything life had been throwing at her lately, attempting to take it all in stride.

She had been strong for nearly 17 years, why stop now?

That was the mentality of a girl who knew nothing but survival, nothing but how to function normally. She was worried Clarissa would never find love, never open up to someone willingly.

Mayrse was secretly glad her old friends had been forced to move into the Institute, if it brought Clarissa and Jonathan closer together. She could tell that he brought out the light in her, the light she had been trained to conceal.

She only hoped a certain white-haired man with a vendetta didn't come along too soon to ruin it all.

And with that, Mayrse put pen to paper and began to write.

* * *

**Well shat, that was an interesting chapter to write. I'm Clace asf, so don't even sweat it, homies. I don't really write smut because well, boys suck and then you die, but I made an exception in Scandals and Secrets, so I'll probably make an exception here. Let me know what your thoughts are on the story thus far in the reviews so I can read them and prolong my insomnia.**

**xoxo, A**


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